


Different

by Patrocool (all_the_homo)



Series: patchwork quilt [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe - Foster Family, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Doctor John, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Lawyer Alex, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, im gonna put that in later in the series, mostly told from phillips pov so he doesnt know but laf is nb, they talk about both phillip's and some asshole (king george) that hurt some kids, war veteran John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 12:13:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8327398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/all_the_homo/pseuds/Patrocool
Summary: “Phillip, sweetheart, are you ready to go into your new house?”He noticed how Peggy didn’t say home. She was careful like that, considerate.  “Yes,” he gritted out.She smiled sadly and nodded. “This one will be different,” she promised. Not better, but also not worse. Just different.  Or, Alexander and John decide to be a foster family, and get a boy that reminds them of themselves.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So! This is the longest fic I've ever posted on this website and I'm a little nervous. Hope y'all like it, I've been working on it for about a week. None of the past abuse goes into detail, but Phillip is expecting to get hit by Alex and/or John. Also, Alex angrily rants about George King, a nanny of one of his clients who hit the kids that he was nanny-ing for.
> 
> EDIT: I changed Philip's age to fifteen bc thirteen didn't feel right??

“I got the email.”

John felt his stomach drop out his body as he dropped his bag on the floor and closed the front door behind him. He walked up to Alex and wrapped his arms around him, nervous out of his goddamn mind. “And?” he prompted.

“We get to meet him and the agent tomorrow. She’s really nice, her name is Peggy and her sister owns the place. Peggy’s gonna evaluate how we treat him, and inspect our house and give us an interview.” Alex listed, voice level and eerily calm. John knew he was processing. “If she decides we’re good, we’ll have him by the end of the month. Probably sooner, since they’re trying to get him into a stable home. He’s been flipping around, he’s fifteen and so angry…” 

“Tomorrow? Wow, that’s… That’s so good, baby.” John kissed Alex’s temple. “Tell me about him.”

“Fifteen, Phillip Doe, loves art and doodling, hates lots of people, has PTSD from past abuse, depression, anxiety, shy but passionate. He’s afraid of the dark, and doesn’t like being touched unless he initiates it. He was born in Cuba and lived there until he was ten, when his mother snuck him aboard a ship heading to Boston. She died on the way, and he was put in child protection when he was found a few days later wandering the streets. CPS paid for his citizenship, since he had no living family on Cuba.” Alexander frowned and looked up at John slowly. John smiled proudly, cupping his cheeks, and the tension melted out of Alex’s body. This right here was one of his favorite parts about Alex; his determination to do things he believes in.

In this case, fostering an immigrant orphan. 

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Hello, Ms. Schuyler, I’m John Laurens-Hamilton.” He smiled and held out a hand to the short brown haired woman in front of him. She beamed, and shook his hand, her smile making her yellow dress look dull in comparison. She looked very pleased at the two men in front of her. 

“Please, call me Peggy, it makes the kids more comfortable.” She said, nodding in Alex’s direction. He grinned in return.

John decided immediately that he liked her. If anybody could make his Alexander smile like that, they had to be good.

She led them down a series of halls until they ended up in front of a door that read, “WEST WING LOUNGE,” in big letters. “Phillip’s in here,” she said softly, knocking and then slowly opening the door. “Phillip, sweetheart, would you like to meet the Laurens-Hamiltons?” 

A skinny boy with a mop of hair a few shades lighter than John’s, and skin a few shades darker than Alex’s looked up sharply from where he was sitting on the floor next to the coffee table. Alex watched as the boy’s body stiffened and straightened up, like a cat puffing up its fur.

Immediately, Alex set his bag next to the door, and sat on the floor on the opposite side of the coffee table, laying his hands out flat on the table, palms down. “My hands aren’t gonna move from this table,” he said calmly. “I know you won’t believe me. I didn’t when the Washingtons did the same thing to me. But that’s okay. I don’t blame you for being wary. I was in your spot not too long ago.” He smiled comfortingly before looking up at John. “Come here, slowly. Do what I’m doing.”

John blinked, looking confused before slowly sitting down, resting his arms on the table. Alex shrugged. “You tried, honey. Make sure he can see your hands.”

John adjusted accordingly, and Phillip stared at them for a long moment. Alex smiled, waiting for a few moments, before going, “Oh,” under his breath and turning towards Peggy who was looking down at Alex with a newfound respect. “Miss Peggy, would you be so kind as to grab the little gift in the front pocket of my bag there? I forgot about it in my excitement.”

Peggy blinked and smiled uncertainly, opening the pocket and holding up a blue wrapped parcel questioningly. “This one?”

Alexander smiled and nodded, nodding in Phillip’s direction. “Yup. Even if you don’t want to stay with us permanently, Phillip, you can keep this.” Once the package was handed to him, he hesitated, looking between the two nervously. Alex nodded encouragingly, and John smiled.

He slowly, carefully opened the wrapping, folding the paper and putting it to the side as he held the thin Amazon box in his hand. Phillip opened it to see a flip phone, a sketchbook and a pack of watercolor pencils. The boy blinked, looking up at the two in surprise. There was a long moment of silence before he gave them a tiny, brief smile that was really only the twitch of the lips. “Thanks,” he said so quietly John almost missed it. 

Alex only smiled and nodded. “The phone already has our numbers in there, as well as Peggy’s, in case you ever feel unsafe and need to get out, okay? You can always call me or John, okay? No matter what time it is, or if we’re at work, we’re here to take care of you.” 

Phillip nodded, fingering the pencils instead of looking at the phone, which he pocketed after a moment of deliberation. 

“You can use them if you want to, John and I won’t look at your sketchbook unless you want us, or one of us to. Now, I think Miss Peggy wanted to give us an interview, yes?” He looked up at her for confirmation and she smiled. “If you don’t mind, Phillip, my husband and I have a very important interview to attend that we wouldn’t miss for the world.”

John and Alex stood slowly and stepped into Peggy’s office with a final wave and smile. 

Phillip decided he would give them a chance.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Phillip, sweetheart, are you ready to go into your new house?”

He noticed how Peggy didn’t say home. She was careful like that, considerate. He liked her a lot better than his last social worker, Charles Lee. That man had been awful. Shivering at the thought, he gripped the garbage bag that the state had given him to carry his stuff in tighter in his hands. “Yes,” he gritted out.

She smiled sadly and nodded. “This one will be different,” she promised. Not better, but also not worse. Just different. Peggy was definitely a good social worker. She knew how to make promises she could keep.

She got out of the car, and Phillip followed in suit, walking with Peggy up to the front porch of a brownstone in downtown Manhattan. It was a nice place, little flower boxes on the fire escapes. The house number was written elegantly in big numbers above the doorbell, which Peggy pushed. A tall lanky person with frizzy black hair pulled back in a silk, purple scarf opened the door, and looked surprised before beaming. “Ah, this must be the social worker, Mizz Peggy Schuyler, and Phillip! Come in, come in, Laurens is fretting over everything and Hamilton is getting pizza. I’m Lafayette, the only one of us who is sane.”

His distinct French accent took Phillip a minute to figure out what he was saying. Peggy smiled at Lafayette, and ushered him inside. He looked around, eyes skirting over pictures of the Laurens-Hamiltons, this Lafayette man, and another, big burly man with a kind smile. Lafayette noticed his stare and smiled. “That is my boyfriend, Hercules. Fitting name, no?”

Phillip almost laughed.

They passed through the little foyer to the living room where John was pacing back and forth, paint all over him and his curly hair a mess. He looked rather disheveled, with papers all over the floor, most covered in ink or paint and other things that Phillip didn’t want to know the origin of.

“Mr. Laurens-Hamilton,” Peggy said, looking amused. He jumped, head whipping up to stare at her. 

“I-I swear I’m not like this most of the time- I’m a good parent- I’m just a mess today- I-I…” He groaned, covering his face in his hands. After a moment, he sighed, and looked up, hand uselessly running over his curls. “Um. Hi?”

For a long moment, all was silent. Then, Phillip snorted, and the tension broke.

Peggy giggled, hand over her mouth as she handed John his folder, the one with his birth certificate, prescriptions, case file, passport among other things. “It’s okay, most people are nervous with their first foster child. I just need to stay long enough to check on Phillip’s room, and then I can go, and he’s all yours.”

John took the file and smiled sheepishly. “I’ll lead the way then, Alexander is picking up pizza with our friend, Hercules. They were supposed to be back by the time you got here. Lafayette, try not to break anything while I’m upstairs.”

He ignored Lafayette’s indignant squawk and led them back into the foyer and up the stairs to the third floor. There was a narrow room, with a small loft area along the side. The bed was under the loft, and a desk next to a window seat that overlooked the courtyard behind the building. A dresser and wardrobe were placed along one wall with a bean bag chair and a few boxes with posters, movies, Knick-knacks and other things. “This is your room, Phillip. It used to be the attic, but we had a garage sale and got rid of pretty much everything. Our bedroom is on the second floor if you need anything. Anything in those boxes you want is yours too. We can take you shopping at the end of the week to get you new clothes, a backpack, school supplies and anything else you want.” He paused, looking around fondly. "This was gonna be my daughter's room, Frances, but she stays with her mom most of the time and she says she likes the spare bedroom on the first floor better anyways."

Phillip looked around with wide eyes, hesitantly sitting on the bed. “I don’t have to share?”

John smiled softly and shook his head. “All to yourself.”

He nodded, and set his bag down. John waited patiently for him to take his time to look around. “You want a tour of the house? I have a room I think you might enjoy.”

Phillip nodded slowly and stood, nudging his bag under the bed before slowly walking over.

John headed back downstairs, but this time stopped on the second floor. Two doors on the left, one on the right, and one at the end of the short hall. “This is the bathroom,” John said, opening the first door on the left. Clean, and small. “The next is Alex’s office, I’m not gonna bother opening it, it’s a complete disaster, he never cleans it. Door at the end of the hall is our bedroom, and this,” he smiled, pausing in front of the door on his left before slowly opening it. “This is my pride and joy. The art room.”

Inside was a small but somehow open looking room with big windows opening to the front of the building. It had a brick wall on one side, with a high table against it. Canvases, both emptied and filled, littered all over. Paint was splattered all over the hard wood floor and walls, even a little on the ceiling. In one corner milk cartons of paints and other various supplies stacked together. A counter with a sink and cupboards was against the back wall. Another cabinet stood against the wall next to the door, and cubbies next to that. “You can use anything here you want, Phillip. All I ask is that you let me know if we’re out of something, or if you broke something, okay? I won’t get mad. I just wanna know.”

Phillip nodded, in complete awe of the room. He flinched out of his trance when he heard the door slam on the first floor, and muffled voices.

John smiled and gestured for them to go down. “Unless you want to stay for pizza, Peggy, I believe we’re done here.” 

She smiled widely. “Thank you, John, but I must decline the invite. I have other things to do.” She nodded to Phillip. “Remember to call me if you need me, okay?”

He nodded and hesitated a moment before hugging her. “Thank you, Peggy,” he mumbled before quickly letting go and heading down the stairs.

John grinned, and took them downstairs, where Peggy said goodbye and left. The man from before, Lafayette was still there, but he was joined by Alexander, and the man from the photos, Hercules. The three were laughing at something Lafayette had said, judging by the Frenchman’s expression. The whole first floor smelt like pizza and family. Phillip slowly walked into the living room and watched as John snuck up behind his husband, scaring him by wrapping his arms around his waist and pulling him up against his body.  
He could feel his lips quirk up in a smile as he watched them all tease Alex before the man finally turned to Phillip.

Alex’s entire body softened, and he folded his hands together in front of him for Phillip to see. The short man’s smile was bright, however, his eyes sharp and clever. “Hey, good to see you,” he greeted cheerfully. Alexander’s mouth worked as fast as his brain apparently; quick and blunt. “Did John show you around?” He didn’t stop for a confirmation before plowing on. “Sorry about the mess, do you want some pizza? Laf is gross and has Hawaiian pizza, can you believe it? I can’t believe I just paid for them to put pineapples on a pizza, it’s a disgrace, honestly. If you want some normal pizza, we also have a meat-lovers, and a cheese since John is a vegetarian and has work for in two days. He’s a ER doctor, by the way, I’m a lawyer, he works crazy hours for like a week straight, that’s why we tried to put our bedroom further away from ours, so you’d actually get some damn sleep.” 

As soon as he took a breath, Hercules put his hand over Alex’s mouth. “He’s not trying to overwhelm you, promise. I would say he’s not normally like this, but let’s face it, he always is exactly like this.”

At that, Phillip actually laughed, short and quiet, but Alex looked at him like he had made the stars dance singlehandedly. Hercules, Lafayette and John looked at him too with big grins, but Lafayette stopped the silent before it could really sink in. He handed Phillip a paper plate and gestured towards the open pizza boxes on the table. “Well, _mon petite étoile_ , help yourself, _oui_? You Americans do love your pizza.”

Silence rang through the room before Alex snickered. “Laf, John is literally the only one in this room born in the States. He’s really the only true American here, and even that’s a stretch, since his mom is from Argentina.” 

The silence was broken with snorts from Hercules and John, and laughter from Alex while Lafayette pouted at his friends. Phillip silently took a slice of cheese pizza to hide his amused smile.

Eventually the four men settled down, sitting on the couches and chairs around the living room. They were all careful to give Phillip room and didn’t ask him too many questions about his past, or try to pressure him into speaking at all if he didn’t want to. Instead, they asked simple, light questions that he returned and really started to get to know them.

He learned that John had a box turtle in the dining room named George Washington, Alex wrote about literally everything, Lafayette had a kitten named Adrienne that he made everyone think was his girlfriend in France for about two months before they realized he was talking about a cat, and Hercules actually tried to design a dress for Adrienne because he was jealous and wanted to impress Laf. He learned that Alex, Laf, and John had actually met when Alex tried to fight some guy named Thomas Jefferson after he was talking shit about Alex and Laf. John ended up punching Jefferson after he made fun of Lafayette's gender.

Alex and John learned a lot about Phillip too, his favorite color was mint green, he loved soft blankets, his favorite animal was a kiwi, his favorite food was peaches, he loved reading and drawing, and he wanted to learn how to fence. 

By the time it was time for Lafayette and Hercules to leave, Phillip had warmed up to the four of them, giving small smiles and talking occasionally when prompted. 

“John, Alex, we had a lovely time, but I must get up early, and so does Hercules,” Lafayette said, kissing Hercules’ cheek to emphasis a little. “We must be going home; Georges will be waiting for us.” He paused, and smiled at Phillip. “Perhaps we will bring him with us next time, he is my son from girlfriend I had in college. She dumped me after he was born, because she didn’t like children, and didn’t want him, but I had refused to give him up. He’s a year older than you, I believe, he turned sixteen a few months ago. I think you’ll like him, a little hotheaded, but an avid explorer.” 

Phillip nodded, looking a little hopeful. “I’d like to meet him,” he said softly, earning a big grin from Lafayette who swooped down and kissed his forehead. “Such a sweet boy. You two will get along wonderfully.”

Hercules chuckled softly and lightly pulled his fiancé back by the white sleeve of his shirt. The Frenchman huffed and waved his hand flippantly at him. “Oui, oui, I’m coming, patience is a value or whatever, mon amour.” Hercules laughed and shook his head, waving at the three. “See you later, Alex, text us about the case instead of calling, okay? Last time you interrupted a very important meeting by yelling about how Jefferson cheated you out, or whatever.”

Alex huffed and made shooing motions. “John, they’re being mean to me,” he whined, leaning on his husband’s shoulder. John simply looked amused. “You deserve it.”

With a final laughed, the couple left, leaving Phillip perching on the side of an armchair while Alex and John shared the love seat across from him. He swallowed nervously, rubbing his knuckles against the palm of his hand, nervous habit he picked up a few foster houses before. 

“Do you want to watch a movie or anything, Phillip?” Alex asked, voice dropped back to the same soft tone he had used in the lounge when they first met. Phillip curled up slightly, hunching his shoulders nervously. This was usually when foster families got violent; when they tricked him into feeling safe and then they broke out the rules, which were never really fair. 

He froze for a moment, unsure of what they wanted him to say. It was a test, to see if he could get the rules, but he didn’t know what the right answer was, he couldn’t know until he chose.

It was John who finally broke the silence. “We’re gonna watch the Half Blood Prince. You’re welcome to stay down here and watch it, or go do something else. All I ask is that you stay in the house and pick up any mess you make. We’re not gonna get mad, or upset either way, and if you need help with anything, we’ll help you, okay?”

Phillip blinked in surprise as Alexander smiled and kissed John’s cheek for that, getting up to go turn on the TV and put the movie in. Phillip hesitated before quickly going upstairs to his bedroom to grab his sketchbook, footsteps quiet.

When he came back down, he paused when he heard his name.

“… Phillip, he’s been through a lot, and he needs time to adjust.” It was Alexander’s voice, steady and quiet, but confident. “I had that same look whenever I came to a new foster home. Often, the first day, the social worker stays for a while and they have a get-to-know-you, especially if the social worker is unsure on just how good the family really is. As soon as the worker leaves, there’s rules, and if the rules get broken, you’re punished. Usually, with a hit or kick.”

“But we’re not like that, Alex, we’d never lay a finger on him!” John protested, voice tight and upset.

“I know that, John, but Phillip doesn’t. Give him time to learn us, okay?” Alexander said comfortingly. Fabric rustled and the couch spring squeaked. He lowered his voice. “He-“

Phillip stepped down to listen better, and the stair creaked under his foot. Alexander went quiet in the living room, and then started talking again. “George King is an asshole, John, I swear, I’m gonna make sure that guy goes to jail if it’s the last thing I do. He was trusted to watch over my client’s kids as a nanny, and what’d he do? He fucking hit the poor kids, left them traumatized, and tried to kill the older boy when he tried to tell his mom what was happening. Who does that?” 

Phillip nervously peered around the corner to announce his entrance. The teen tried to pretend that he hadn’t heard that conversation about him, but his mind was racing. At first, he thought, maybe it was staged just so he’d let his guard down. But there were a few problems with that. One, Alexander stopped as soon as he heard him. Two, they didn’t know he was coming back down. And three, why bother go through the effort? He was stuck with them regardless, there wasn’t really any point for them to do that. Not to mention, it was a doctor, and a lawyer, people who literally work to help people every day. They seemed like the least likely kind of person to hurt him.

But he had foster families like that before, that were good until he fucked up, and then it started. It was only a matter of time, really, until one of them snapped and hit him.  
“I… I just wanted to grab my sketchbook.” He held out the blue-covered sketchpad they had bought him only a week before. “Y-you don’t mind, do you?”

Their faces lit up when they saw that he came back down and had the sketchbook. John grinned, looking excited. “Of course not! Sit down, sit down, draw, watch the movie, whatever you want. I can even make popcorn if you want any.”

Phillip curled up in the cushy armchair on the opposite side of the room from Alexander and John, shaking his head shyly. “It’s fine, I don’t like popcorn much.”

John nodded and pulled Alexander closer, until he was nestled into his side snugly. On screen, the credits finally ended, and the title screen rolled on. Phillip watched the movie, completely enraptured. By the end, John was asleep, and Alexander was watching his husband more than the movie. 

Alexander looked at Phillip and smiled softly, his hand carefully intertwined with John’s. “Try not to wake him when he sleeps, okay? That’s all I’m asking of you. Of course, if you need something, you should definitely tell us, but if he’s sleeping…. Well, I’d rather have you wake me than him, okay? I’m rarely asleep anyways, I have too much work to do to waste time sleeping.”

No wonder the man had such dark bags under his eyes, Phillip thought. He simply nodded though, agreeing with whatever Alexander said. The man smiled softly and carefully got up, gently shaking John’s shoulder. Phillip noticed how Alexander held John’s wrists to his chest. “Baby, wake up,” he murmured in the sleeping man’s ear. “It’s me, it’s Alex, wake up, you’re safe.”

John woke with a jerk, his eyes blank for a moment and his arms jerked like he was trying to punch or push something. Almost immediately, John relaxed upon seeing Alexander’s face and his husband easily released his wrists. “Mm… did I fall asleep during the movie?” John mumbled, wrapping his arms around Alexander’s waist and buried his face in his stomach. Alexander smiled fondly, and ran his fingers through John’s messy curls. 

“You did, and you missed the best part, shame on you.” He teased. “Now, let’s get you to bed, mm? You worked an 18-hour shift, only slept an hour beforehand, and you’ve been up since you came home. You have to be exhausted, love.”

John nodded numbly, but didn’t move to get up. 

“John,” Alexander said, warning in his tone. John whined like a five-year-old, but relented, slowly getting up. He grimaced and rubbed his shoulder as he headed towards the stairwell. Once Alex heard their bedroom door shut, he turned to Phillip to answer the unasked question that was in his eyes. “Five years of active duty straight out of high school. Ended up getting shot in the shoulder, and was honorably discharged. He decided to pick up medicine after that because he never wants to hurt another person, he wants to help them.”

Phillip swallowed, staring at the spot where John had been sleeping moments ago. “PTSD. He doesn’t wake up well, does he?” He murmured, half to himself.

Alexander was quiet for a long pause, to the point where Phillip almost forgot he was there. “You have PTSD too.” It wasn’t a question. “What do we need to be cautious of? Do you have triggers that cause flashbacks?”

Phillip swallowed hard. He knew that he should tell Alexander, he clearly knew how to handle it. 

“Don’t wake me up by loud noises. Only touch my shoulders to the tips of my fingers, my jaw and up, my knees and down. Don’t yell. Don’t leave me alone in the complete darkness. Let me know if you’re gonna be going somewhere.” His voice was barely above a whisper, and he stared at the wall across the room. “If you need to wake me, touch my forehead, say my name a few times quietly. Don’t restrain me like you did to him.”

Alex nodded, listening to every word and charting away the information carefully. “Thank you for sharing with me,” he said softly. “Storms freak me out, if you find me panicking during a storm, and you can’t get John, Laf or Herc, grab my shoulders, make me look at you, and count slowly. Preferably in French, or Spanish, as those are my native tongues, but English works too.” 

Phillip nodded and yawned softly, rubbing his eyes. “Okay. Thank you.”

The other smiled kindly, and lightly tapped his hand. “Of course. Now, go to bed, okay? Get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He nodded sleepily, and trudged his way up the stairs, all but collapsing on his soft bed. Peggy was right, this place was definitely gonna be different.

But maybe, for once, it would be different in a good way.

Maybe living with the Laurens-Hamilton household would be better than different.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments make my world go 'round, I'd love some requests for stuffs from this verse, I'll gladly write it out if it inspires me. I started writing one where they realize John has cancer and i don't know if I'm gonna post it, probably will because let's face it, i love that angst.
> 
> EDIT: this has only been up for about three or four hours now, and I've gotten 300 hits???? Holy shit???? I love you all????
> 
> I've also got four outlines down four plots.
> 
> 1) John develops cancer  
> 2) Phillip meets Theo (jr), Georges, and Frances  
> 3) Phillip learns how to deal with both John and Alex having flashbacks/panic attacks, and they learn how to deal with him doing the same  
> 4) John and Phillip bond over art bc they're needs and John cries bc he's so proud
> 
> HOW TO GET NOTIFIED WHEN A NEW PART OF THE SERIES COMES OUT:  
> 1) click that little button that says "patchwork quilt" as the name of the series  
> 2) there should be a button at the top saying "subscribe"  
> 3) push that button, and you'll be emailed when a new fix comes out in the series:)


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